


a century is all we need

by vantastrider



Category: Homestuck
Genre: College AU, Dave works at Starbucks, F/F, Humanstuck, M/M, University AU, a modern day romance, karkat works at olive garden
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 11:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17385281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vantastrider/pseuds/vantastrider
Summary: In which Dave and Karkat fall painfully slowly in love with each other.





	1. Chapter One

A loud, abrupt bang interrupts the class’ quiet work period, the sound resonating throughout the large classroom. Karkat, along with every other student in the class, lifts his head and looks towards the English professor, who is holding a large, hard cover book in between his hands. He must have snapped the book ends together to purposefully make a loud noise, because he expectantly (and condescendingly) stares at a student who seems to have just woken up.  
“Mr. Strider, I would advise you not to fall asleep in my class again. If you’re going to waste my time, don’t come to class at all,” Karkat’s professor states in a louder than usual voice, his eyes locked on the now alert student.  
The student in question, Karkat observes, is an (obviously dyed) blonde guy with black aviators on, along with classic blue jeans tucked into black combat boots and a gray hoodie with their college’s name on it. He looks like the kind of guy who would make some sort of snarky comment back, but all he does is nod ever so slightly and straighten his back, stiffly opening his clearly outdated laptop. As his hands reach towards the keyboard, Karkat notices his hands shaking. Thinking nothing of it, Karkat turns back to his own laptop to continue working on the twenty page report from hell. He's pretty sure his professor just assigned this report to the class solely because he hates his job and every stupid college kid in his class.  
The class’ attention is no longer focused on “Mr. Strider,” and within thirty more minutes the period is over. Karkat sighs as he hastily packs up his books and pencil bag, but carefully places his brand new laptop in its bag. He’s not about to let his thousand dollar Macbook Air that he saved up for for over a year get damaged in any way.  
Karkat passes the Strider kid’s desk, noticing out of the corner of his eye that he seems to be frozen in place, hands still shaking as they rest on his laptop’s keyboard. Karkat pauses, debating for a moment if he should ask if he’s okay, but quickly decides against it. It’s none of his business and too many people in this college are weirdly standoffish; he’d probably just get a strange look and no response, especially seeing how rough around the edges this guy tries to look.  
Karkat walks out of the classroom and slings his backpack over his right shoulder, holding back a groan as he notices a headache coming on. It’s not a surprise; he spent the hour long class period wracking his brain for ideas on how to continue his essay about the influences of media against the consumption of literature. All he could think of past an outline was how media doesn’t actually affect the amount of literature people consume — it all boils down to the modern education system conditioning children from a young age that creative writing and reading aren’t useful skills that will help them get into a good college and therefore won’t achieve a successful career. He weighs his options: on one hand, if he writes his actual opinion, he’d probably be able to drag it out long enough to complete the twenty pages with truth and passion behind his words. On the other hand, his professor might give him an F for such a “controversial” idea. Older teachers can’t handle the concept that the way they teach is detrimental to the majority of students, sending them down a dull, lethargic life stuck in a job they hate.  
Karkat makes his way to his dorm room lost in thought, hoping to God that his roommate isn’t there. When he unlocks the door that has their two name-tags on it, he sighs in relief to find the dorm empty. He pulls out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans before flopping down on his uncomfortably hard mattress and unlocks it with one hand, opening up Pesterchum.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 11:46 --

CG: DO YOU MIND IF I RANT TO YOU FOR A HOT SECOND? NO? GREAT.  
CG: I’M REALLY STUCK ON THIS STUPID FUCKING ENGLISH ESSAY AND I NEED MORE TIME TO FINISH IT.  
CG: I CAN’T EVEN THINK OF HOW TO WORD MY OPINION SO I DON’T SEEM LIKE I’M COMPLETELY SHITTING ALL OVER EVERYTHING MY PROFESSOR BELIEVES AND SUPPOSEDLY LOVES ABOUT TEACHING.  
CG: IT’S DUE ON FRIDAY AND I HAVE TO FUCKING CLOSE AT WORK TONIGHT. I’M GOING TO BE UP UNTIL MY 8 AM CLASS TOMORROW AND I ONLY GOT THREE HOURS OF SLEEP LAST NIGHT.  
CG: I’M GLAD I DIDN’T FALL ASLEEP IN CLASS TODAY. SOME OTHER GUY GOT SCOLDED FOR DOING EXACTLY THAT.  
CG: CAN I JUST DROP OUT NOW? I KNOW IT’S ONLY NOVEMBER BUT I GENUINELY DON’T KNOW IF I CAN FINISH THIS COURSE WITH AN OUNCE OF SANITY LEFT.  
CG: WHY DOES GOD HATE ME?  
TT: I can cover your shift tonight.  
CG: WHAT? I’M NOT ASKING YOU TO DO THAT.  
TT: I know.  
TT: But you cover my shifts when I ask.  
TT: It’s the least I can do.  
CG: I ONLY COVER YOUR SHIFTS BECAUSE I NEED MONEY, NOT AS A FAVOR TO YOU.  
TT: Sure.  
CG: IF YOU REALLY WANT TO, I GUESS YOU CAN TAKE MY SHIFT.  
CG: IT WOULD BE HELPFUL, TO BE HONEST.  
TT: Take some extra time to work on your essay.  
TT: Feel free to message me for help, too.  
CG: JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE A LIT MAJOR DOESN’T MEAN YOU KNOW MORE THAN ME ABOUT WRITING.  
TT: It absolutely does.  
CG: WHATEVER.  
TT: A thank you would be nice, Karkat.  
CG: YEAH YEAH.  
CG: THANK YOU. I APPRECIATE IT.  
TT: Anytime.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 12:05 --

Karkat breathes a sigh of relief, closing his eyes as he sets his phone down on his pillow next to his head. He doesn’t talk with Rose too much outside of work, but he’ll be damned if she isn’t a great friend to go to in a pinch, especially regarding English related topics.  
Before he accidentally dozes off, Karkat forces himself to sit up, running a hand through his black, curly hair and leaning up against the wall that his bed is pushed against. He takes out his laptop from its case and begrudgingly opens it up.  
He spends two and a half hours continuously typing after deciding, fuck it, he’ll just give his professor his honest opinion about the prompt. Even that old fucker has to at least appreciate the truth. Karkat decides to take a break before giving himself carpal tunnel, surprised to find he’s already written eleven out of the twenty required pages.  
He carefully sets aside his laptop and starts to get out of his bed when the dreaded sound of the dorm room door unlocking greets his ears. Karkat doesn’t hold back a groan when his roommate waltzes into the too-small-for-two-people dorm room, his stupid fucking face half covered by a stupid fucking scarf.  
“Well, hello to you, too,” Eridan sneers with his fake fucking accent.  
Karkat doesn’t grace him with an answer. He simply gathers his backpack and studying materials to head to Starbucks for an already much needed break from Eridan. Luckily, the nearest Starbucks is only a three minute walk from their dorm building -- good for caffeine purposes and awkward first dates, bad for everyone’s wallets.  
Karkat arrives at the cafe, ordering a venti iced vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso quickly at the counter and setting his stuff down at one of the last few free tables. Students from his college are always studying here; most of them, including Karkat, doing so to avoid their annoying roommates.  
His name is called out — a new voice, he notices — and he grabs his laptop to avoid it getting stolen as he hurries to grab his coffee. He looks up at one of the baristas and grunts a thank you, giving them a small smile as his gaze lingers on the new hire. It’s sad that he knows who’s new and who isn’t, Karkat thinks to himself as he walks back to his table; that’s just how often he wastes his money on over-expensive coffee.  
Before getting to work, Karkat tries to catch a glimpse of the new hire’s face, and after watching for a few too many seconds for it not to be considered creepy, he realizes it’s the same guy who got yelled at in class earlier. The event had almost slipped his mind already, but his concern from earlier resurfaces as he remembers how — what was his name again? — “Strider’s” hands were shaking. Again, he’s tempted to ask if the guy’s okay, but shakes the thought away, cracking his knuckles before beginning to type again.  
It’s 5:30 pm when Karkat finally finishes his coffee and looks up from his screen for the first time since sitting down. He decides to leave when he notices other students are glaring at him for taking up a table by himself. Before stepping out the door, Karkat checks to see if the new guy is still working, but he’s not anymore, or he at least isn’t behind the counter.  
It takes longer than usual to walk home, a combination of drowsiness, and dread over interacting with Eridan, slowing Karkat down. When he gets back to his dorm, though, Eridan isn’t there. Probably at a theater club meeting, thank God.  
Karkat makes himself a classic packet of ramen in the common room kitchen, sitting cross-legged on his bed and watching film reviews on YouTube. After eating, he immediately gets a Pesterchum notification:

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 18:20 --

TT: How is the essay coming along?  
CG: GREAT, ACTUALLY.  
CG: ONCE I SAID FUCK IT AND DECIDED TO GO WITH MY OWN OPINION INSTEAD OF WHAT MY PROFESSOR WANTS TO HEAR, THE CREATIVE JUICES STARTED FLOWING.  
CG: I’M UP TO SIXTEEN PAGES NOW. I HAD TO RETREAT TO STARBUCKS FOR A FEW HOURS TO GET AWAY FROM FUCKFACE.  
TT: Glad to hear it.  
CG: THANKS AGAIN FOR TAKING MY SHIFT.  
CG: I WOULD HAVE BEEN EVEN MORE FUCKED IF I HAD TO WORK TONIGHT.  
TT: Don’t worry about it.  
TT: I’m off work in three hours, so I can read over what you have so far if you’d like.  
CG: THAT’D BE GREAT, THANKS.  
CG: I’LL SEND IT TO YOU NOW. I’M PROBABLY GOING TO FALL ASLEEP BEFORE YOU GET HOME, I’M SO FUCKING EXHAUSTED.  
TT: Alright. I’ll be sure to wait to send my many, many notes regarding your paper until morning.  
CG: YOU HAVE SO LITTLE FAITH IN MY WRITING SKILLS.  
TT: So do you.  
CG: DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO BE RIGHT?  
TT: Absolutely.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 18:34 --

It takes Karkat a few hours before he becomes tired enough to fall asleep, very drowsily remembering to set an alarm for his 8 am class just before his head hits the pillow. He closes his eyes, content with another uneventful day at college and just a little bit proud of himself for the progress done on his essay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for taking the time to read this first chapter! if you couldn't tell by now, this is going to be a very painful slowburn. it's been a while since i've written, so i apologize if my writing is a bit rusty! please feel free to let me know what you thought and give constructive feedback. my twitter is also @vantastrider if you'd like to talk to me there! thank you again and more chapters will be up soon!


	2. Chapter Two

“What’s wrong with you?!”  
Dave turns his head to look at the registers, an angry customer shoving a coffee at the barista.  
“I didn’t order this bullshit! I’m going to be late for class because of you!” The student, who looks to be a freshman, doesn’t bother waiting for a new coffee, leaving the barista looking annoyed and just a little upset.  
Dave exhales through his nose and turns his head back around to finish making an iced coffee, one of his more experienced coworkers guiding him through how to do so.  
After a long shift of fucking up coffee orders and his coworkers taking the blame for him, Dave finally heads back to his apartment. It’s a ten minute walk from his new job, and he’s glad it’s getting to be cooler temperatures now that it’s winter in Texas.  
Upon arriving at the second floor apartment, Dave doesn’t bother changing out of his work clothes as he flops right onto the couch and lets out an exasperated sigh. He has an 8 am class to go to in the morning, and that English essay — fuck. He hasn’t even started an outline and the twenty page monster is due in two days. He’ll have to ask for an extension, which usually isn’t an issue, but with his asshole English professor…  
Dave opens his eyes when he hears his phone vibrate, grabbing it from the back pocket of his jeans.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 16:46 --

EB: hi dave! how was your second shift being the best barista ever?  
TG: fuckin amazing  
TG: im already the master of making the most overpriced coffee in the tri state area  
TG: ladies and dudes alike are lining up out the door just to get a glance at my barista skills  
EB: so you like it?  
TG: eh  
TG: its work  
EB: at least now you’ll feel better about crashing with rose!  
TG: yeah  
TG: i still owe her for the past three months rent and food  
EB: you know she doesn’t mind!  
EB: how are classes going?  
TG: so good  
TG: im tearing it up  
TG: everyones jealous of my straight As  
TG: im the teachers fuckin pet  
EB: that bad?

Before Dave has a chance to reply, the door to Rose’s room opens. Rose walks out, rubbing her eyes as if she just woke up from a deep sleep.  
“How was work?” she asks Dave. She motions for him to move his legs so she can sit on the couch beside him.  
“I’m a natural,” Dave lies, swinging his legs over to make room. “I’ll be able to help you with some of the rent this month.”  
Rose smiles softly as she reaches for the remote. “Don’t worry. I still have some set aside, and I’m getting extra hours,”  
“When do you work next?” Dave asks, resolving silently to shove some rent money in Rose’s purse when she isn’t looking.  
“Tonight,” Rose sighs. “I picked up a shift. Just from six to ten.”  
Dave rolls his eyes behind his shades. “Is it that loud asshole again?”  
“He’s really very sweet once you get to know him,” Rose’s tone softens just a little. “I owe him, anyway.”  
Dave decides not to ask what she means by that, instead turning his attention back to his phone.

EB: i have to go to class now. sorry!  
EB: i’ll talk to you later, dave!

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 16:58 -- 

Dave exhales deeply, feeling a pang of guilt for not replying to John in time before he had to go. He’s disappointed that Rose has to work tonight — mostly because he wanted to watch Kitchen Nightmares with her, but he also needs some help with his English essay.  
Rose closes her eyes for a few minutes and leans her head back against the back of the couch before getting up to get ready for work, Dave assumes.  
Rose leaves for her shift a half an hour before she really needs to, waving goodbye to Dave and leaving him to his own devices.  
Dave flips through the new arrivals on Netflix for a while before giving up and just opening up the YouTube app on his phone since his laptop is too old and shitty to run more than a few hours a day.  
Finally, he decides to watch Buzzfeed Unsolved - Supernatural. He gets super into it without expecting to and doesn’t notice as the sun sets. His grip on his phone gets tighter and tighter as he continues to try and convince himself that he isn’t scared, it’s just a stupid show, and it’s all fake.  
Dave nearly jumps out of his skin when the door starts to unlock from the outside, quickly checking the time to find it’s already past ten. How he unknowingly spent over four hours watching one series on YouTube, he’ll never know.  
Rose walks into the apartment quietly, probably expecting (or hoping) that Dave is already asleep, letting her guard down when she turns on the light and sees him still laying on the couch just as she left him.  
“Did you eat?” she asks, unable to hide the slightest hint of exasperation in her voice.  
Dave feels his heart pang a little bit. Of course Rose is sick of his shit, constantly having to babysit a fully grown man in her own apartment that she pays full rent for. He doesn’t reply.  
“I brought you some food that a customer sent back,” Rose places a to-go box on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Braised beef and tortelloni. Nothing is wrong with it. They just ordered the wrong dish.”  
Dave looks up at her as his stomach growls, suddenly made aware of his own hunger. “You should have it,” he holds the box back up to Rose.  
She shakes her head. “I ate at work. I’m going to bed. You should get some rest, too.”  
Dave watches as Rose retreats back to her room and hesitates for a moment before grabbing a fork and opening up the box. It looks… amazing. Slices of marinated beef mixed with tortelloni and mushrooms, all covered in a white cheese sauce.  
Embarrassingly, Dave manages to finish the entire dish within a few minutes. He’s used to either a packet or two of ramen a day if anything; to have such a gourmet dinner (albeit cold) was a much needed luxury after such a long day. Thank God Rose works at an Olive Garden.  
After eating, it’s already almost eleven pm. Dave forces himself to take a quick shower and brush his teeth before crashing in his room, absolutely forgetting to set an alarm for his early class. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a bit shorter than chapter one; sorry about that! i'm nervous about how i characterize dave, so please let me know how i did! thank you for reading!


End file.
